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MOVIE HORROR STORIES

When in Rome...
by Johnny Betts

Posse Back in my high school days my friends and I seemed to have quite the knack for choosing the wrong movie to see at the wrong theater at the wrong time. Let's go back to 1993. Stephen Baldwin was fresh off my favorite TV show (The Young Riders), so I was quite excited when I saw he was starring in a big screen Western - Posse. Naturally, I convinced Baker's Dozen and Carlson that we had to see it. Baker's Dozen was always up for a good Western, and Carlson really had no say in the matter because we still hadn't forgiven him for the My Own Private Idaho disaster (you can read all about that in My Own Private Nightmare).

Posse really is a pretty decent flick - at least I thought it was when I originally saw it. I haven't seen it in over 10 years; therefore, I'm not sure how it stands up today. So it wasn't our choice of movie that was flawed that day. Our bad decisions revolved more around time and location.

For some inexplicable reason we chose the late showing at the Highland Quartet - one of the oldest theaters in the city that was known to attract a rougher crowd. If you're not familiar with the storyline of Posse then I need to point out that it's a movie about a group of mostly black infantrymen who return from the Spanish-American War with a cache of gold. They travel to the West where Mario Van Peebles searches for the men who lynched his father. Suffice it to say, we became a little more than concerned when we saw that the theater was full and we were the only three white people there and everybody was looking at us as if we had something to do with the lynching.

I figured everybody would soon realize we were probably there to cheer on Stephen Baldwin, so I said a quick prayer that Baldwin would be a good guy and would be part of Van Peebles' posse. Thankfully, it's a prayer God chose to answer, so we got off to a decent start.

Unfortunately for us, the movie has its share of bad white guys who are stereotypically racist. And it probably will come as no shock to you that feelings of discomfort would set in whenever these bad guys would start throwing around their clichéd racist comments. So what were three pale-skinned high school seniors to do? Slink as far down in our seats and hope no one associated us with the portrayals that were on screen, of course!

We tried a little too hard to fit in at first. Things got off a little shaky when Baldwin announced, "I ain't ever personally enslaved nobody," and I yelled out, "Amen, me neither!" Admittedly, that probably drew unnecessary attention in my direction, and the looks of fright on the faces of Baker's Dozen and Carlson showed they really didn't appreciate my editorializing.

But as the film moved along, things got smoother as we'd shake our head in disgust every now and then and would cheer whenever one of the posse members would triumph. I think I even threw in a "stupid cracker" comment for good measure in reference to Billy Zane's character.

After a while we were able to sit stoically in our seats, part of the crowd. We had found acceptance. A bond was formed. And in that instance we were all one big posse.

Moral of the Story: When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Send your stories to me and let the whole world know just how dangerous going to the movies can be.

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